


First Meetings

by hlravensnest_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-16 22:05:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlravensnest_archivist/pseuds/hlravensnest_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atHL Raven's Nest. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onHL Raven's Nest's collection profile.





	First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HL Raven's Nest](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HL_Raven%27s_Nest). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HL Raven's Nest's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hlravensnest/profile).

First Meetings by RSSacchi

  
  
  


_First Meetings_

By RSSacchi 

* * *

Debra Essex walks along the left bank on an early summer day. She stands 5’ 7” tall and has curly brown hair. She has on canvas sandals, an ankle length hemp dress, a T-shirt proclaiming her love for Paris, and a bandana. Suddenly she feels a sensation that attracts her to a tall, muscular man. She smiles and approaches the man. 

“We have, like, a cosmic connection. I can tell you feel it too.” 

The man sighs. “What is your name?” 

“Debra Essex.” 

“Have you had an accident recently?” 

“Wow, I know we have a connection. A month ago I fell in this river. I though I was going to drown. Then I woke up and found myself lying on the bank. 

“My name is Nick Wolfe. I have to tell you a few things. Would you mind coming with me? There's this place we can talk.” 

“Why not?” 

* * *

Nick takes Debra inside what she thought was a church. It’s in fact a nightclub. 

“Have a seat. This use to be a church. Can I get you something from the bar?” 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, as long as it’s not too strong.” 

Nick pours two beers out of the tap and takes them over to Debra. “You may want it strong after what I have to tell you.” 

“You sound so heavy.” 

“When you fell in the river, you did drown. I was shot dead in 1999. We’re Immortal; we can live a thousand years or more without aging a day.” 

“That sounds awesome, but it can’t be true.” 

“Believe me, it’s true. That sensation you started feeling when we got close to each other, they call it The Quickening. It’s how we identify other Immortals.” 

“How many more like us are there?” 

“More than you would expect.” 

“I didn’t expect there were any ‘Immortals’ until you told me.” 

“There is a downside. The only way we can die is if we get our heads cut off. When we die near another Immortal our Quickening, our strength and knowledge, goes into the surviving Immortal.” 

Nick takes out his rapier. “There are Immortals who will kill other Immortals just to get their Quickening.” 

“Ew, that’s horrible.” 

“It is. That’s why you’re going to have to learn how to fight with a sword. Most Immortals refer to this as The Game. It helps them deal with what they have to do to survive.” 

“You mean running around chopping other people’s heads off.” 

“Yeah.” 

Debra feels another “Quickening”. 

“Is that someone coming to kill us?” 

“No, this use to be a church; that makes it Holy Ground. Immortals don’t kill on Holy Ground.” 

A tall, thin, well-dressed woman, with two shopping bags from upscale boutiques walks into the nightclub. 

“This is Amanda, she’s my teacher. Amanda this is Debra. I was just telling her what she is.” 

Amanda cocks her head to one side. “Were you?” 

“Yes, Nick was telling me when I thought I died a couple of months ago I actually did die.” 

“You don’t say.” Amanda sits across from Debra. 

“Yes, Nick was telling me I am an Immortal and I can’t die.” 

“That’s a whole new world for you isn’t it?” 

“I’ll say.” 

“Nick, she’s as old as I am.” 

Nick’s look changes to confusion then to anger. “What game are you playing?” 

“I was just flirting! It was all harmless.” 

“Pretending you’re something you’re not?” 

“We’re Immortals, that comes with the territory. Amanda, you _did_ teach him that, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, but Nick has this thing about the truth.” 

“Nick, I really didn’t mean any harm. Pretending to be a new Immortal seemed a good way to get to know you.” 

“You could have tried the truth.” 

“I haven’t had a good track record with the truth. Men tend to not like older women, especially ones who chop off heads.” 

“Men tend to not like women who have a problem with the truth.” 

Debra flashes her eyes at Amanda and smiles. “I suppose I’d better be leaving. Nick, you were a cop weren’t you?” 

“I use to be; now I’m doing personal security and private investigations. My office is downstairs.” 

“Killed in the line of duty.” 

Nick gives Amanda a look. It’s a look to make sure someone doesn’t forget something. 

“Something like that.” 

With that Debra walks out and takes a look at the cloudless sky. 

* * *

**NORMANDY, 852**

Debra looks up at the cloudless sky as she walks her horse along a road on a warm summer day. Suddenly she feels the sensation of another Immortal. Her mind races, she thinks to mount her horse and ride away but decides against it. The other Immortal probably has a horse much better than her tired nag. She draws her sword and waits nervously for a few moments. Shy tries to speak in a brave voice. 

“I am Debra of Essex.” 

There’s a rustling in the bushes; Debra faces the movement. A tall, thin woman emerges. She is all wet. She has on a fine dress but is barefoot and has her sword at the ready. She shivers a bit, it could be from being wet or it could be from fear. 

The women look at each other for a few moments. 

“I did not know you were here. I have no wish to fight you.” 

“I am called Amanda, my first death was two years ago.” 

“Mine was a year ago.” Debra puts her sword in her left hand and raises her right hand. Amanda does the same. Amanda’s attention seems to shift from Debra’s sword to her horse. 

“I was taking a bath in a stream when I sensed you. It was very refreshing.” 

“Yes, it seems it would be.” 

“You are welcome to join me.” 

Debra thinks about it, but she was robbed and swindled enough times in her youth not to trust any stranger. All she has of value is the horse and her sword; she can’t afford to risk either. “No, I had better be off.” Debra mounts her horse. 

“Was I the first Immortal you met?” 

“Besides my teacher, yes.” 

“Then we should both be happy. We faced our first Immortal and lived. My teacher told me most Immortals do not. Farewell.” 

“Farewell.” 

* * *

PRESENT TIME 

Debra walks home from a midnight movie. It’s a long walk home but she likes nighttime walks. For a few centuries after her first death she feared going out at night. Then one day she realized she was far stronger than her recent opponents. Since then she enjoyed going out on clear nights. She enjoyed looking at the night sky and seeing other things that don’t change. 

As she walks down the sidewalk she takes no notice of the car that slows down as it approaches her. The driver takes out a handgun and opens fire. Round after round strikes her upper body. Debra shudders with each round that hits her. She feels intense pain and drops to her knees before falling backwards as she hears the car drive away. 

* * *

Debra takes a deep breath. Her eyes race from side to side. _Quickening! Is there a Quickening?_ There are no other Immortals around. There is no one else around. The pain lessens. She stands then slips, presumably on a bullet. _Why would someone do this to me?_

* * *

Debra steps inside The Sanctuary where only a few die-hard patrons remain. She considers herself lucky the place is still open. Amanda would be very upset if she awoke to the sensation of another Immortal in the middle of the night. 

Amanda walks over to Debra. “Where’s the cat that dragged you in?” 

“I look that bad?” 

“Yes.” 

“Where’s Nick?” 

“He’s upstairs asleep.” 

Debra scans the room to make sure there aren’t any mortal’s close enough to hear, then whispers. “Someone shot me tonight.” 

“Somebody’s wife, darling?” 

“That’s your department, darling. Seriously, I figured Nick being a private investigator...” 

A couple of the staff walk towards Debra and Amanda. Amanda waves them off and whisks Debra upstairs to her suite. 

“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow, darling?” 

“Take a look at the clock it’s already tomorrow, darling. Amanda, no mortal has any reason to shoot me.” 

“So someone shot you for no reason?” 

“Exactly, I wasn’t robbed or anything. Amanda, I figured Nick being a private detective, he could maybe find this guy before he shoots somebody who won't get up.” 

“If you’re so civic minded why don’t you go to the police?” 

“What would I tell them? ‘I got shot dead tonight, but I got better.’” 

“You could tell them someone shot at you and missed.” 

Debra grabs the sides of her dress and shows the bullet holes to Amanda. “Does this look like he missed?” 

“Go home, put on another dress, then go to the police.” 

“Could you at least be civic minded enough to tell Nick when he gets up?” 

Amanda gives a reluctant nod. Debra takes out her cell phone. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Calling a cab. I walked here.” 

“I’ll give you a lift home.” 

* * *

Debra sits inside an office in a police station. Police Inspector Dorléac, a woman who looks in her early forties, summarizes what Debra told her. 

“So you were walking down the street, alone. Someone drove by, fired shots at you and missed. You walked over to a nightclub to tell your friend and your friend drives you home. Then four hours after the alleged shooting you decide to walk into a police station and report it.” 

“It doesn’t sound very good does it?” 

“No, it does not.” 

“Pardon me. It’s my first shooting. My friend’s friend is a detective. I thought maybe he would treat it more seriously than the police.” 

“Madame, we treat all crime seriously, including filing false police reports.” 

“I was walking down the street and someone fired shots in my direction.” 

“Where is this detective friend anyway?” 

“He was asleep -” 

“Something that makes sense.” 

“Next time somebody shoots at me I’ll ask them to take better aim.” 

“Do not get sarcastic with me, Madame.” 

Someone knocks at the door. The detective opens the door and talks with another detective for a moment. The other detective leaves and Dorléac turns her attention to Debra. 

“They found projectiles at the scene.” 

“Now do you believe me?” 

“No, you see the bullets were lying loose on the sidewalk. They weren’t dug out of walls or anything. They had been fired into something previously and were dropped on the sidewalk.” 

* * *

Debra steps into Nick’s office. 

“Debra.” 

“Did Amanda tell you I was here last night?” 

“No.” 

Amanda enters Nick’s office. 

“Amanda, we were just talking about you. Nick says you didn’t tell him I was here last night.” 

“I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Besides, what for? The police can handle it.” 

“The police aren’t handling it. They think I staged the whole thing. The bullets that went into me ended up on the ground.” 

“What is this all about?” 

“Someone shot me last night. They didn’t take my purse or anything. So the only motive I could think of was a random shooting. I figured since you were a private detective maybe you could find something out before someone else gets shot.” 

“It could be mistaken identity.” 

“That still means someone else might get shot.” 

Amanda folds her arms. “Maybe the police are on to something. You flirt with Nick, you find out he’s a PI, then you end up getting shot for no apparent reason.” 

“You think - Amanda that’s pathetic. That’s really pathetic.” Debra walks to the door. 

“Debra, I’ll do some checks. Why don’t you tell me what happened?” 

* * *

Debra walks into Nick’s office with a newspaper in her hand. 

“Debra.” 

She puts down the newspaper in front of Nick. “See, a man was murdered last night, just like me. Why does everyone have to wait until someone gets killed?” 

Amanda steps into the office. “Oh Debra, it’s you.” 

“A man was murdered last night.” 

Nick interjects. “Debra, murders happen in Paris.” 

“How would you police put it? The M.O. is the same.” 

Amanda looks at the paper. “What’s the same? This is a forty year old man.” 

Nick mutters, “A random killing.” 

“Why didn’t anyone listen to me?” 

Nick speaks in a conciliatory tone, “Debra, even if everyone took your word for it they wouldn’t have stopped this killing. Unfortunately, with random killers the killer almost always kills a few victims before they are caught.” 

“That’s not reassuring.” 

* * *

Debra walks into Nick’s office. “An elderly woman was killed last night.” 

“I know, I heard it over the radio.” 

“We can’t just sit here.” 

“There isn’t much to go on. There are over 4,000 vehicles of that model, in black, in Paris. Keep in mind it could also be a dark green or blue.” 

“I know you, and the police, are trying.” 

Amanda walks into Nick’s office. 

“Amanda, right on time. I was just going to suggest to Nick we walk around the streets at night.” 

“You mean like bait?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t like being bait.” 

“Mortals don’t like being dead either, only they don’t get the choice.” 

* * *

Debra walks down a desolate street while Amanda walks down another street. Nick is standing by his SUV two blocks ahead of them. She hears Amanda’s voice in her earpiece. 

“I don’t know how you roped me into this.” 

“By appealing to your sense of civic responsibility, Amanda.” 

“Tomorrow night I get the car.” 

Nick chuckles. “As long as you use your own, Amanda.” 

“Deal.” 

They have been acting as decoys for a week. In that time another man and a woman have been murdered. A car approaches from Debra's rear and slows. “There’s a car behind me.” 

“Hey, beautiful! What do you say you ride with us?” 

“Did you hear that?” 

Nick answers, “I heard it. They don’t seem to fit the M.O. Ignore them.” 

“Hey, what do you say? Come on, ride with us.” 

“Ignoring them isn’t working. I’ll go to plan B.” Debra gives them the regional obscene gesture. There is some laughing and the car moves on. Debra walks to the corner and sees Amanda at the next corner. 

“We’re keeping an excellent pace.” 

“I think you’ll owe me a pair of shoes when this is done.” 

Moments later Debra hears Amanda’s voice. 

“A car's slowing down behind me. Must be the same jerks.” Her voice changes to a whisper. “I’ve been shot, 659, 659.” 

Debra races to the next block. Nick drives past her. When she rounds the corner she sees Amanda lying on the sidewalk and runs over to her. Debra debates if she should stand over her and wait or kneel beside her. Amanda will get up momentarily so there seems little sense to get her pants dirty. Debra hears a siren approaching and decides she should make it look good. 

Debra kneels as Amanda comes back to life. “You could have done this five seconds ago.” 

“Yes, I am well, thank you very much.” 

Debra helps Amanda to her feet. “I thought you were the nimble one.” 

“He fired six shots and I managed to dodge five of them.” 

“Congratulations, old girl.” 

Two police cars block the street. A black car comes barreling down the street with Nick chasing it in his SUV. The car turns, spins out, and crashes into the side of a building. Nick and some police officers, guns drawn, and rush towards the car. The man inside screams, “Don’t shoot! I give up! I give up! Don’t shoot!” 

Debra remarks to Amanda, “Don’t any of these psychos go down in a blaze of glory anymore?” 

“It almost makes our way seem civilized.” 

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

Debra, Amanda, and Nick are in the police station. Inspector Dorléac looks contrite. 

“Sometimes we are too dismissive of what citizens tell us. You did the right thing. Still, I don’t believe we could have solved the case any quicker. Ms. Montrose, you were very lucky.” 

“Well, I’m not so hard to kill.” 

“One thing that does puzzle me: this bullet, it was just lying on the sidewalk, the same as the ones found on the scene of your attack Ms. Essex.” 

Amanda smiles. “Well, what’s a case without an unsolved mystery?” 

**THE END**

© 2007   
Please send comments to the author! 

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